


The Prince is Missing

by spicyarnor



Category: Trails in the Sky, Trails of Cold Steel, 英雄伝説 閃の軌跡 | The Legend of Heroes: Sen no kiseki (Video Games), 英雄伝説VI 空の軌跡 | The Legend of Heroes: Sora no Kiseki (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut and Banter, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyarnor/pseuds/spicyarnor
Summary: Prince Olivert goes missing again, and while searching for him, Major Vander finds quite a bit more than he bargained for...





	The Prince is Missing

**Author's Note:**

> A warning: this is basically entirely very descriptive smut. Turn back now if that's not your thing...

He'd lost him again.

A jolt of controlled panic and alertness shot through Mueller as he stood sharply to attention. He felt himself instinctively reach towards the pommel of his blade, but he stopped himself before he grabbed it, dropping his hand to his side in a clenched fist.

That damned prince had disappeared yet again.

"He's not in his quarters, sir, and we have men scouring the entire base. No luck yet." The lieutenant, older than him by a good 20 years, spoke with respect, but Mueller could see the judgement in his eyes. This was _his_ job. He should have been keeping a closer watch over Olivert during his visit of the fortress. Not that anyone else seemed to understand how nearly impossible a task that was... 

"I understand. Thank you for your report. I will go search the perimeter immediately. You are dismissed."

The lieutenant bowed curtly and left his superior standing there alone. Scowling, Mueller turned on his heel and made his way down to his personal quarters to retrieve his orbment in case of combat.

Aidios above, he hoped the stupid man had just gone off to serenade the sunset or something. If he'd gotten into trouble without backup... Reaching his door, he punched in his security code and the door cracked open with two soft beeps and a click. 

Immediately he could sense a human presence in the room. It was dark, Mueller could see from the slightly open door. Time was of the essence. He needed to confront this potential enemy with a pre-emptive strike before they could escape. Mueller whirled into the room, flipping on the light switch with one hand as he drew his sword with the other.

There was... someone in the room. Someone naked, disheveled, lying on the floor partially tangled in a sheet from Mueller's nearby bed, his golden blonde hair feathered out against the ground, messy bangs in his eyes, face and body flushed, chest slightly glistening from sweat. Prince Olivert slowly turned his head to look up at him, his eyes widening, his breathing heavy. 

Mueller completely froze, despite his pulse quickening at the sight. He opened his mouth to say something, but words weren't quite coming out. He stumbled a step back, sheathing his sword and accidentally clicking the door shut behind him with his elbow. Olivert looked him over surprisingly timidly as he did so.

He swallowed and found words. He spoke quietly, yet slow and deliberately. "Olivier, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

The prince flinched, sitting up slightly, crossing his legs despite that area already being covered, and grabbing hold of the sheet, which slid between his legs with a soft sound. Mueller looked away, uncomfortable. 

"M-Mueller, my love," He said breathily, "I wasn't expecting you to return so soon--" 

The older man pressed a hand to his forehead. "Cut the crap, Olivier. Half the base is looking for you, and you're... you're..." He waved a hand in some kind of vague, rushed gesture that in his embarrassment looked nothing like the thing he was describing. "In MY quarters..." Mueller pressed his eyes shut and was presented with the mental image of Olivert on the ground, back arched, touching himself desperately as he mumbled Mueller's name -- He shook his head, trying to stop the imagery, then looked over at the blonde man, who was still looking unusually vulnerable, tinged pink and visibly tired from exertion, avoiding his gaze and wiping something onto the sheet as he began to stand...

Mueller flushed, tightening his shaky muscles to keep him firmly rooted in place even as a certain part of him began to protest against his uniform. He cursed, glancing away for a moment but couldn't find the will to stop looking.

It had been so long since he'd done anything with anyone, and the prince was rising on unstable legs to dress himself, covering himself with the sheet as he did. He'd seen him naked or near so countless times of course, but not... Not like this. Mueller gulped as the sheet fell and Olivert stammered out sincere sounding apologies, facing away as he reached down to grab his underwear --

It was too much. Mueller found himself walking towards the man and before he knew what he was doing, he'd grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and kissed him forcefully, groaning softly as he pressed his tongue into the prince's mouth. Olivert froze in surprise but then quickly responded, melting into the kiss and curving his naked body into Mueller's stiffly uniformed one, wrapping his arms around the man's back and pulling them into an embrace. Mueller could feel a smile spread across Olivier's face as he kissed back, submitting to his force but responding with delicate skill that had Mueller going weak in the knees. The damn bastard.

They broke for air, and Olivert was smirking up at him with no small bit of awe, amethyst eyes half-lidded and twinkling. "Well," he breathed with a grin, "that certainly wasn't the kind of lecture I was expecting."

Mueller's eyebrow twitched. "Oh shut up." 

“You certainly gave me a tongue-lashing--”

“I said, shut up!” Mueller groaned, visibly frustrated, and broke the embrace by taking a step back. “Honestly, if you could just stop talking for even ten seconds--”

“I believe I've just proven to you that I can.” The brunette glowered at him in response. Olivert sighed as if pained by this, but kept smiling.

“Just--” The older man paused, trying to gather his thoughts. _Aidios, what have I done_ , he mumbled. Then he spoke hesitantly, breaking eye contact but taking care not to look down. “Just tell me, Olivier, what exactly were you doing in – in here, of all places?”

“My dearest Mueller,” he spoke softly, stepping to close the distance between them, bringing up a hand to gently caress his face, then dropping it to his side, “I was... thinking about you.”

There was that mental image again. He had been right. Mueller's eyes shot straight to Olivert's, his pulse shooting up. He was glancing away somewhat shyly, looking simultaneously excited and embarrassed. It was, again, a startling new side of the prince he had never really seen. Mueller found it horribly alluring for some reason, and he almost kissed him again, but he hesitated.

The blonde gave him a sidelong glance that could melt a glacier, and bit his lip, still unsure of what his partner was thinking. "I could... show you, if you like."

Mueller's heart just about leapt out of his chest. He knew he shouldn't be doing anything like this with the prince of all people, and he knew he should probably be mad with him for violating his privacy or something, but, well. This was it, the final nail in his coffin. He had been pushing down his attraction to the man for years, thinking his constant, casual flirting to be insincere, but the Debaucherous Prince had finally won.

He gulped and nodded. "Yes," he choked out, "please."

Olivert's eyes lit up brightly as his expression widened into a very pleased looking smile. "I never thought this day would come," he murmured, touching Mueller's neck lightly and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, then sat down on the bed behind him. 

The brunette set his sword and scabbard aside as he watched the other man lay back, leaning against his pillow, which was propped up against the headboard. He let his eyes travel across his exposed body, over the lean, toned muscle his many layers of clothing usually concealed (that is, if Mueller was doing his job right), and down to his very visible arousal. His breath hitched in his throat and he looked back up at Olivert's face, only to be met with a furtive glance as the man began to slowly run a hand along his own collarbones, then down his chest.

"I think about you a lot, you know," he said, his other hand caressing his thigh, "I knew it was a lost cause but I couldn't help but imagine, if it wasn't..." The prince's hand trailed down his stomach, then slid up his length, his thighs tensing, then down again with a slow, deliberate rhythm as he met Mueller's captivated gaze, "what exactly would you do to me?"

There was a pause as the older man stood there completely tense, torn between continuing to watch his charge as he touched himself, breathing growing quicker as he did so -- or joining him on the bed and showing him what exactly he wanted to do right then and there. Olivert let out a small breathy laugh as his pace quickened. "Your face is completely red... You're quite a bit more shy than I'd expected," he said with some effort, then his eyes fluttered shut as his hips thrust up jerkily, and spoke almost with a moan, "Mueller."

Mueller was out of his boots and on the bed in a flash. All pretense gone, he tore into the prince's mouth with a hungry kiss, pinning his wrists up by his shoulders. Olivert moaned into him with startled satisfaction as he was kissed hard, his head pushed flat against the mattress, Mueller's tongue roughly exploring his mouth. Olivert made a muted whine as Mueller then broke the kiss with a gentle yet forceful bite to his lower lip, then began trailing passionate, wet kisses and bites down his face and neck.

"You cause me nothing but trouble," Mueller nearly growled between kiss-bites, "I train my whole damn life to protect you and you do nothing but get yourself into danger. I spend every waking moment looking after you and you just..." He trailed off, kissing the indent between his collarbones, skin slightly tasting of salt from his sweat. "Tease me, constantly, just like you do everyone else, without even thinking of what it..." he mumbled, "does to me." He stopped his kisses to look straight into his eyes, "I'm so tired of it, Olivier."

"I had no idea," Olivert said softly, momentarily showing a look of pained understanding, then spoke with his usual flourish, "how would I know of my boon companion's affections if he always kept them locked up in that gruff, uniformed heart of his!" Mueller groaned in annoyance, hanging his head, but he continued more gently, "Have you truly wanted me all to yourself this entire time? I can be more... aware of your needs." He bucked his hips upwards, brushing his erection against the straining seam of Mueller's pants, sending hot sparks where they touched.

Mueller almost protested but found himself grinding back down onto him, unable to control himself. He let go of Olivert's wrists, using one hand to steady himself and the other to touch his face, the skin soft beneath his fingertips. Then with a look of longing, he kissed him again. This time the prince took the upper hand, darting his tongue into Mueller's mouth now, threading his fingers up through his messy short hair. Mueller gave in, head swimming as he began to grind a bit faster, then quickly realized something was off.

"Clothes," he muttered, sitting up with a start and unzipping his uniform jacket. He threw the thing across the room and quickly began undoing the buttons on his undershirt as Olivert slid up out from under him and bent over to undo his belt buckle. Shirt carelessly tossed aside, he stiffened as the blonde pulled down his pants to his knees, gently cupping his sizable bulge through his boxers with a look of excitement.

"I've always wanted to see the sword of Vander," Olivert teased with a smirk, running his finger from base to tip.

Mueller made a choking sound and batted the man's hands away, fully removing his pants and dropping them to the floor. "Olivier, _please_ ," he half-whined, half-scolded, clenching his fist at his side.

The prince looked at him sheepishly, then his eyes wandered over the nearly nude Mueller. He was extremely masculine and well-built, with broad shoulders and chest, a narrow waist and sculpted arms, muscular legs, and a few small battle scars on his abs. A thin unruly trail of dark hair led down into his black boxer shorts, which were certainly full of something. Olivert licked his lips absentmindedly and then rose on his knees to face Mueller, whose turquoise eyes had clouded over with lust as he watched him eye him hungrily.

After a moment of tension the boxers went too, and the prince's eyes went wide as they came off, revealing a sizable erection just as impressive as the body it was attached to. Mueller couldn't help but take some pride in the other man's reaction, and a corner of his mouth ticked upwards in what on Mueller's serious face looked like a predatory expression. "Are you sure you want to find out what exactly I want to do to you?"

He didn't give the blonde any time to respond, immediately pushing him backwards onto the bed and overwhelming him with a kiss as he straddled him, his desire only increasing as their skin collided in a wave of heat. Then he thrust his length against Olivert's in a slow grind, groaning in pleasure at the heat and friction of his hardness against him. The prince moaned into Mueller's mouth and brought his hands to his hips, forcing them down on him harder as he ground up into him over and over again.

It was almost too much for Mueller to take. They broke to breathe, still grinding, and looked into each others' eyes, hazy with desire.

"Please, show me more," the blonde said in a broken voice, tilting his head back, Mueller immediately assaulting his exposed neck with kisses. "Mmmm," he whined, "Please--"

The brunette got off of Olivert momentarily to reach under the bed and retrieve a small bottle, uncapping it and squeezing a slick liquid into his hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, watching the disheveled prince as he lay there panting, appropriately debauched.

He nodded in response, bending his knees up and slightly apart. "I _need_ you, Mueller," he choked out, touching himself and moving his hips.

Mueller was on top of him again, between his legs, kissing up Olivert's stomach and chest, eliciting small sounds of pleasure from him. "Please," the blonde begged once more, and was immediately rewarded with a slick finger sliding its way inside him. The prince let out a moan that despite all they had already done together made Mueller blush, watching in awe as he writhed underneath him, taking one finger, then two, then three inside him, thrusting his hips into his hand and making soft, needy sounds as his fingers curled in and out of him.

It was the most erotic thing Mueller had ever seen, and it wasn't for lack of experience. Seeing the usually so assertive Olivert whine and beg beneath him lit a fire inside him that threatened to consume him completely.

"I need you too," he found himself saying with emotion, sliding his fingers out and rubbing himself up and down against his entrance. Then, burying his face in the prince's neck, he pushed inside him slowly.

The heat and friction of him around him was overwhelming, and it took every ounce of willpower Mueller had to enter him gradually. Olivert gasped and clutched at his back hard enough that his short nails nearly pierced skin. Mueller cursed, halting his movement, not even halfway inside yet. "Is this too much?"

Olivert took a shaky breath, limbs trembling, then cocked his head back slightly in a messy grin, "I can take it."

Stunned by this response, Mueller took a moment before replying with an amused, but on his face rather scary looking smirk, "If you say so," then resuming his pace. 

The prince clutched at him still, letting out small cries of surprise which Mueller muffled with gentle, passionate kisses, trying to soothe the other man despite his previous challenge. Olivert melted into him, body relaxing a bit, and then finally with groans from both of them Mueller was inside him all the way.

"S-see?" The blonde said with a hazy smile, hot puffs of air against Mueller's close lips. "I want all of you," He brought up a hand to touch his face gently, "my love-"

Mueller, overwhelmed with need and passion, cut him off with a deep, hungry kiss as he began to move, gently at first, taking in everything about the prince - the low, desperate moans he let out as Mueller gave slow, gradually deeper thrusts, the way his legs curled around him, drawing him close, how his body seemed to suck him in deeper and deeper...

It was all too much, and yet not enough - he wanted to take in this feeling of closeness, their bodies against each other, the scent of Olivert's skin, the heat coiling up from where they connected - but soon they both found themselves lost in pleasure, the prince bringing his hips up in small circles and making gasping moans escape Mueller's lips.

Mueller felt himself lose control, plunging into him again and again, faster and faster, until Olivert was a completely helpless mess beneath him, biting at his neck to keep from making too much noise.

"Mueller - hah... Ah...!" he cried out, struggling to speak, "please... please... Touch me, I'm almost-" Olivert let out a satisfied groan as Mueller's hand wrapped around his length, sliding up and down as Mueller continued to ravish his body, movements becoming jerky and breathing ragged.

"Olivier," he choked, "I'm going to-"

Olivert nodded against him, a jumble of muffled sounds against his neck, arching his back upwards and crying out loudly as he came hard between them. Mueller saw stars as he made a few last rough thrusts and came apart into him, waves of euphoric pleasure washing over him as he collapsed onto the prince in an exhausted heap.

They lay there panting for a few long moments, Mueller still inside him, arms still wrapped around each other, both dazed and completely spent. Eventually Mueller found the energy to roll off of Olivert, who smiled and let out a contented sigh between slightly labored breaths. Mueller turned on his side to look at the prince, who though he had little red marks all over his neck and chest from where Mueller had kissed and bit him, his hair was everywhere and his stomach a sticky mess, looked completely unashamed and was staring at Mueller like the world revolved around him.

In that moment, Mueller couldn't help but kiss Olivert, a long, gentle kiss that he hadn't expected to give. The prince returned it with a soft hum as Mueller ran his fingers through his long, silky hair. As their lips finally parted, their eyes locked and they found each other drawn back in. They laid there just kissing slowly for quite some time, until Olivert let out a long sigh and nuzzled into Mueller's chest, underneath his chin. Mueller wrapped his arms around his waist and shoulders, drawing him close, ignoring the mess it would make.

"You're surprisingly romantic," the prince cooed, warm, soft breaths against his skin.

Mueller sighed, flustered, not really sure what to say. Finally he settled for a rather inelegant "Would you rather I just get up and leave?"

"Absolutely not," Olivert replied indignantly, running his fingers against his chest and laying a few light kisses across his collarbone. "Didn't you swear an oath to never leave my side?"

That was definitely romanticizing it a bit, but Mueller stifled a laugh into the prince's hair before answering, "Yes, I suppose I did."

He was grateful that Olivert couldn't see the involuntary, truly happy smile spreading across his face.

  
  


* * *

  
  


A few minutes later, the sound of sirens woke them out of their reverie with a start.

"Shit," Mueller spat in panic, moving slightly apart from Olivert, only to see the still-naked prince looking at him with amusement.

"Mueller my love, are you truly so smitten that you've forgotten this entire time about the 'half the base' that's apparently looking for me?" The brunette's eyes widened, and Olivert closed in with a smirk, placing his hand on Mueller's neck, their noses brushing. "Or perhaps you would like them to find us like this, to see the proof of what exactly you and you alone have done to their beloved prince..."

Mueller felt the heat rise to his face and bolted up in bed despite his fatigue. He cursed again as he glanced at the clock, sitting on the edge of the bed, then grabbed his sheet off the ground with a grimace and used it to wipe himself fairly clean. He tossed it to Olivert, who was slowly propping himself up on his elbows. "I don't think this is going to work for me, Mueller," came a reply a moment later.

"It's going to have to," the brunette said dismissively, pulling on his underwear, "we don't have time to shower, and it's been long enough that they're probably going to come down here looking for me, too."

"No, not that," Mueller turned to look at the prince, who had wiped himself down and was now standing on very shaky legs, bent over strangely, knees looking like they were about to buckle. "I don't think I can..." he staggered forward a step and nearly faceplanted into the ground, if it weren't for his bodyguard's steadying hand on his shoulder. "...Walk."

Mueller's mouth dropped open. "W... well," he fumbled, embarrassed, but secretly feeling a sort of twisted satisfaction at his handiwork, "that is a problem. I can't exactly just carry you out of here."

  
  


* * *

  
  


With more than a little pride lost and cursing himself for even mentioning the idea, Mueller found himself princess-carrying the damned prince into the hallway. Both now fully clothed and presentable enough, Olivert smirked at him shamelessly, arms around his neck.

"Aidios damn it Olivier, act natural," he hissed, looking down the hall to see if anyone was coming. The sirens kept blaring so it was faint, but with his honed senses he could hear footsteps around the corner. A pair of low ranking soldiers appeared a moment later, rushing over to the prince and his aide upon seeing them, eyes wide.

"Your highness, and Major Mueller, sir," one of them stammered, both bowing and giving a salute, "it's a great relief to see you both!" They eyed the prince, who was no longer smirking. "Is your highness injured?" 

Olivert opened his mouth to speak but Mueller cut him off. "This idiot twisted both his ankles trying to climb out a window," he grimaced, looking very annoyed. "I've already bandaged him up. I'm taking him back to his quarters now. Please inform your superiors of the situation and ask them to call off the high alert."

The soldiers glanced at each other very briefly then bowed and saluted. "Y-yes, sir!" They left quickly.

Mueller let out a breath and punched in a code on the door next to his. For obvious reasons, the two of them had been given adjacent quarters, though the prince's were of course posh and royal. As soon as they were in the door with it latched and locked behind them, Olivert pouted, "Did you have to tell them something that made me seem so incompetent?"

Mueller laid him down on a black suede couch at the far side of the room. "What did you want me to tell them? The truth?" 

He regretted his words as soon as he saw the wide, conspiratorial smile spreading across Olivert's face. " _No._ " He scolded firmly.

The prince laughed. "Come, Mueller, even I wouldn't go that far. I may be shameless, but I at least have my dignity."

Mueller raised an eyebrow.

"I'm hurt," Olivert whined, then his expression changed into a devious smile.

"So, do you want to help me get cleaned up, or perhaps make me even more dirty...?" He licked his lips, sliding off his cravat and tugging gently on his coat collar, revealing kiss-marked skin.

Mueller stared incredulously, trying not to focus too hard on the red marks he'd left or the slow, sensual movement of the prince's skilled tongue across his lower lip. "Olivier, you can't _walk_."

Olivert raised his eyebrows a touch. "And why exactly would I need to walk, when I have a perfectly good bed and a strong, beautiful lover to share it with?"

The brunette sputtered, secretly feeling a thrill at the compliment but trying to force it down. And... 'lover'? Were they lovers now? He couldn't deny that what they were doing certainly fit the definition of the word, but thinking of Olivier as his _lover_ was... his heart pounded, and he stared back at the blonde with an attempt at a flat expression, brows furrowed.

Olivert chuckled, fingers against his lips.

"Weren't you already..." Mueller faltered, still slightly embarrassed to talk about these kinds of things. "Weren't you in my room for a while before I got there? You have to have come at least twice tonight already, right?" 

"Well, yes," the prince said idly, looking up to the side in momentary thought. "I guess the time with you was number... five, today? I may have lost count. What an absolutely arousing question to hear from your lips, though," he purred, eyes lidding in a sinful expression. "I wonder what other words I can hear you say with the right coaxing."

Vivid images of Olivier doing absolutely naughty things to himself in _his_ room, presumably for hours, filled his mind. Mueller opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "Let me get this straight. You went to my quarters, came _four times_ , then once with me, and you STILL want more? You still can actually DO more?"

The blonde shrugged. "Well, anything on my own hardly counts."

 _This man is terrifying,_ thought Mueller with a sudden chill. What exactly would it take to keep him satisfied? His eyes lingered on the prince's exposed neck and he found himself thinking perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to rise to the challenge after all...

"So...?" Olivert asked, shrugging his coat off and unfastening his vest. "What will it be, my dearest companion? The night is still young..."

Mueller breathed out, then knelt down in front of the prince, who gazed down at him with a look of delighted surprise. "First, let me help you get out of all these clothes."

"Oooh," he responded in a low voice, "I do like the sound of that."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Olivert felt heat rush to his face and other places as Mueller stared him dead in the eye, expression unreadable but intense, and undid the zippers and buckles on each of the prince's boots. Then, running his hands up his calves, he slowly slid the boots off of his outstretched legs one by one, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

It was bold and intimate for Mueller, and Olivert felt a surge of desire and affection for the man, watching him with eager, curious eyes.

"I'm not doing this all myself, you know," Mueller muttered, and the blonde quickly realized he had just been staring back without moving a muscle.

He wet his lips. "A pity," he sighed, taking off his vest and going for the buttons on his shirt as Mueller removed his socks and then began taking off his own uniform shirt and mantle.

As he undid the buttons on his shirt, Olivert noticed the little marks Mueller had left on him for the first time, and felt a satisfying thrill. "You certainly went out of your way to mark me as yours," he observed, running his fingers along his exposed torso from mark to mark in a sensuous motion. 

The reaction on Mueller's face was priceless, a delicious look of hesitant, restrained excitement. How had he held back his desire for so long, to the point that Olivier himself had honestly thought it wasn't there? The man was nothing if not dedicated, that was for sure.

He found himself recalling the look of uninhibited passion and longing in those gorgeous blue eyes as Mueller had said _'I need you'_ in a broken voice, positioning himself to --

Right. Undressing. He flashed his bodyguard a sultry smile and slipped his arms out of the long silk sleeves, casting off the shirt. "Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten how to take off my pants. Won't you help me?"

Mueller rolled his eyes, crossing his bare arms. "You could find a way to take your damned pants off if your hands were tied behind your back and you were hanging upside down off a cliff."

"Now that is the highest praise," Olivert replied with a contented sigh. "Perhaps I am not helpless, but... I would most enjoy your aid." Aidios above, it was like pulling teeth with this man sometimes. He was sure the feeling was mutual, he thought with a great measure of satisfaction.

"You would enjoy a lot of things," the brunette said dismissively as he dropped his own pants to the ground, stepping out of them and kneeling before Olivert once more wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. "Unfortunately for you, it's part of my job to make sure you don't get all of them."

The prince wilted slightly, then gasped in surprise as Mueller suddenly unzipped his pants, pulling them down his thighs, revealing his dark red underwear. He was not fully hard but his partial arousal was still apparently noticeable enough through the silky fabric of his boxers that he noticed Mueller's eyes linger there as he pulled his trousers down and then fully off his legs.

"It's not as if I have nothing to offer you in return, my dear Mueller," he said, shifting his thighs ever so slightly, running a thumb underneath the elastic at his hips. "I am so very eager to please."

Mueller stared at him, eyes wandering over the prince's body. Yes, he was beginning to break now, Olivert thought, feeling his pulse quicken as he was looked over. _Mueller_ was looking at _him_ like that...

He wanted to sit straight up, curve his mouth around the brunette's lips and draw him down onto him. Mueller would let out a beautiful sound of surprise as the prince's limbs wrapped around him, hands caressing the tight muscles of his back, memorizing every surface... Olivert wanted to feel the hot weight of his body press into him, to drink in the intoxicating taste of his lips, tongue, skin and... other interesting places, but the raw soreness he felt on standing unfortunately kept him from making these fantasies real. He bit his lip, eyes drawn from broad shoulders to narrow waist, barely restraining himself.

"Okay," Mueller conceded, voice low, "I can be persuaded." Olivert could see a tinge of red at his cheeks. _Irresistible._ "But we have to clean up first," he added.

"Oh, alright," The prince sighed. Truth be told he would probably rather they be clean for this, but he was feeling very impatient. So many years of pining after the man, forming strong bonds and sharing intimate moments that if not for the unusual, restrictive roles of prince and aide-de-camp would certainly have been more than just friendship, and he finally had him, right here, wanting him too...

"I suppose we can make this fun," he murmured into Mueller's ear, lips barely brushing his earlobe, as he was lifted up from the couch and into strong arms, skin against skin.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather make it quick so we can have our fun someplace comfortable," said Mueller, who stiffened as Olivert snaked an arm around his neck to support himself.

The words were like music to his ears. "That sounds absolutely _wonderful_."

  
  


* * *

  
  


After taking a few minutes in the shower (sadly one at a time - washrooms in military facilities certainly were nothing to write home about, even the ones for important guests), they were both clean, fully naked, and Olivert was being laid down on his soft, pillowy four-poster bed.

He propped himself up on his side and beckoned to Mueller. "Lie next to me," he said, and Mueller obeyed eagerly, looking at him with intense eyes and open lips, pushing back the prince's hair and going in for a kiss. 

Ignoring his body yelling at him to let Mueller kiss him already, Olivert covered his lips with his fingers. "Not yet," he said to a look of confusion and frustration, "Please... tell me what you want first."

Mueller opened his mouth a bit, obviously struggling with what to say.

"Be honest with your desires," he added with a smirk, "I want to hear everything..."

The brunette clapped a hand over his own face and finally spoke. "You are horrible."

Olivert smiled. "Let me help. Do you want to kiss me?" 

"Obviously," Mueller groaned. 

The prince closed in on him, stroking his neck, then his chin line, then behind his ear, Mueller shuddering at the touch and dropping his hand to his side. Olivert's hand lingered on the side of his neck, fingers making light, slow circles. "Or do you want me to kiss you?"

The desire in the man's eyes was vivid and apparent, but it seemed putting him on the spot like this made him very nervous. _Another push then,_ Olivert thought, then brought his face closer so that their noses touched and their lips were nearly brushing.

"Do you want me... to kiss you?" he asked again, in a low voice and more slowly than before, breath soft against Mueller's lips.

"Yes," the brunette said quickly, desperately, and Olivert responded just as fast by tipping Mueller's chin up slightly and bringing his lips down onto his. He brought a hand up his neck and through his hair, and as he deepened the kiss and ran his tongue against Mueller's, he was rewarded with a satisfying groan as the man gave in, returning the kiss with need but letting the prince take the lead.

Olivert cracked his eyes open as he kissed him, watching every slight reaction. Mueller's face was tinged a beautiful shade of pink. His brows knit together when Olivert gave a gentle nip to his lower lip, and raised when the prince, still kissing him and caressing his face, pushed him back gently with his shoulder, positioning himself so just his face and chest were over Mueller's. His eyelids fluttered, breath heavy as Olivert pressed down firmly, tongue dancing deeper and deeper circles around Mueller's own. 

There was an actual whine as the prince broke the kiss, smirking down at him even as his own face was flushed to match, and he delighted in the sound. "There," he panted, "Was that really so difficult?"

Mueller frowned, but the look was so softened by his reddened lips and his hand gripping the blankets that it only made Olivert smile more.

"If you just ask me with the right words," he said, stroking the side of Mueller's face, slowly trailing his touch down his neck, "I could do anything for you."

He could see Mueller's breath catch in his throat as he swallowed, then looked away. "Y-you... This is embarrassing," he mumbled. 

"No such thing," Olivert reassured him, lifting his cheek to face him. "As you can see, I clearly want you just as badly." He glanced down at his own hardness, flexing it with a light bounce against his stomach. "I just need you to tell me what you like..." he laid a firm kiss against Mueller's jaw, "what you really want me to do to you..." another kiss, on his neck, making the brunette raise his head reflexively, "... and it's all yours."

Mueller looked up at him, face hot. "What do you want to do to me?"

"Everything," the prince replied earnestly, passionately, in a deep, breathy voice that sent warm chills down the older man's spine. He pushed himself up onto his knees, elbows on either side of Mueller's head supporting him. Then he looked down at his body, his beautifully sculpted, masculine body, and back up into his eyes with a little shudder. "I want everything," he repeated slowly, with no less passion than the first time.

The brunette's body tensed, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath in and out. He was so serious, Olivier thought. He applied himself completely to whatever he was doing or thinking, and it was completely endearing. But what was he thinking? It was always so hard to tell... 

"...Do you know how difficult it is for me to stay still after hearing you say that?"

The prince smiled. "Good," he kissed the side of Mueller's neck, underneath his ear, "Tell me more."

"You're awful," he hissed, making a fist in the duvet as Olivert brought his lips to his neck once more. "You're going to drive me insane."

"Hmmm..." the blonde hummed, trailing his lips lightly underneath Mueller's jaw, knowing the vibrations would carry. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just shut up and kiss me again already," he snapped, touching the back of Olivert's head and tilting it up as he tilted his own head down to kiss him - but the prince grabbed his wrist, stopping him a mere rege away from their lips meeting.

"Is that all you want? Just kissing?" Olivert asked casually, trailing his fingertips across Mueller's broad chest. 

"No," Mueller said, clearly frustrated, "more than that."

"Do you want me to touch you too?" he murmured, tracing lazy circles around his nipple, then gently rolling it between his index finger and thumb.

Mueller let out a small sound of pleased surprise, not at all used to this kind of stimulation. All of his previous sexual experience had been confined to short, rough hookups, mostly out of desperation and hormones during basic training. Being touched like this, teased like this, having his own needs thoughtfully attended to was... new. " _Yes,_ " he said quickly.

"Where?" the prince asked softly, shifting his legs so his knees were on either side of Mueller's thighs, long, slightly damp hair a curtain around his face.

"I don't know," Mueller said honestly, "Anywhere. Everywhere. Wherever you want to. Please," he said, looking embarrassed and desperate, running his hands up Olivert's back.

As completely inviting as that was, despite how much he wanted to do exactly as he said, the blonde held back his impulses for a moment and looked down at him thoughtfully, trying to figure out the look in his eyes. Did he really not know what he wanted? Could a handsome man his age not know how he liked others to please him? Or perhaps... he just wanted to know that he _was_ wanted? Whichever was the case, he felt a pang of sadness and devotion to the man, then spoke, "Very well then, my beloved Mueller. I will show you all my love for you," and watched him begin to turn scarlet, before kissing him.

Mueller didn't give in as easily this time, cupping the prince's face in his hands and attacking his lips with pent-up passion even as Olivert parted Mueller's deftly and deepened the kiss. He kissed him slowly, deeply, a more sensual continuation of the previous kiss, and Mueller, taken in by this, molded himself to the prince's slow, agonizing pace, grasping at his back.

Olivert ran his hands along Mueller's neck and shoulders, kissing a line down the side of his neck and pausing to taste the skin at his pulse point. Mueller's clean, fair skin had a familiar, masculine scent that both excited him and made him feel safe, and he delighted in being able to drink it all in up close... To have him here, beneath him, responding so readily to his touch... Even though his body still felt the things that Mueller had done to him, even though Mueller had left proof inside his body of his desire, the prince could still scarcely believe it.

The brunette breathed heavily and bit his lip to conceal a moan as Olivert kissed a line down his chest, caressing the skin there, and flicked his tongue over a nipple. He sucked lightly, giving a slight nibble, and Mueller made a strained sound of pleasure against his tightly closed lips. 

"You really don't get enough attention, do you," said the prince, making gentle circles around the now hardened nub with the tip of his tongue.

Mueller hissed as Olivert began sucking again, almost too hard but not quite, and began working his other nipple with his fingers.

"No," the brunette agreed, meeting his gaze, flinching and making small noises whenever Olivert gave a little flick with his tongue.

"I can't help but feel personally responsible," he said, kissing his way to the other nipple, "but don't worry, you will have my undivided attention from now on..." He began to lick again, and gave a nip to the sensitive flesh. Mueller made a loud sound of not unwelcome surprise, and the prince smirked up at him. "It might even be a bit too much for you."

Mueller's face was hot and overwhelmed. Yes, clearly he really was not used to this kind of attention... Most people Olivert had seduced weren't used to what he had to offer, of course, and he took pride in making them get as flustered as possible, in gently guiding them to break down all their barriers and showing them a whole new level of physical love. It was no different with Mueller, except... well, everything was different with Mueller, somehow.

He sat up, his thighs on Mueller's thighs. He felt a pang of soreness upon rising of course, but looking down at his lover's exposed body, eyes watching him with rapt anticipation and a mix of strong emotions, it felt rather... erotic.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed, then with a surge of passion he began kissing down his torso, feeling every contour of muscle beneath his lips, touching with his hands the parts of him his mouth couldn't easily cover. Moving backwards, he kissed across his belly, and ran his hands slowly and lightly up Mueller's inner thighs, making him shiver.

"Please, tell me what you want now," Olivert purred, planting a kiss on his thigh.

"Olivier," Mueller moaned as another kiss was left on his inner thigh, the prince's hands moving teasingly around his aching hardness but careful not to touch it.

"You want… me?" The prince smiled seductively, taking total joy in hearing that voice say his name like that. He took the other man's desperate, frustrated look as tentative confirmation. "That can be arranged," he said, running his index finger lightly along the underside of Mueller's impressive erection, and oohing in delight as his hips thrusted up against his hand. "I hope you don't mind if I taste you first... I just can't resist."

Before the brunette could attempt to reply, Olivert was slowly swirling his tongue over the head, tasting soft, lightly salty skin and Mueller moaned loudly in surprise. The prince sank his head down, mouth quickly filling with his hard, hot length and it became very obvious it was not all going to fit. Mueller certainly didn't seem to mind though, gasping as Olivert began to draw his cheeks in and suck up and down, slowly and with excruciating attention to every movement, spiraling his tongue around him as he did. It was so good to be this close to him, to feel and hear every reaction to his slightest movement, to know he was bringing Mueller such pleasure. His own body ached with desire, but he focused only on Mueller, stroking him with one hand and looking up at him with a smug look on his face.

The brunette looked back down at him with wide eyes, breathing fast, hands balled tightly into the blankets. He was getting quite a show, wasn't he? Olivert sank his head down further, taking more in than was strictly comfortable, keeping eye contact as he slid slowly up and down, knowing it would probably drive the man crazy. He took great pleasure in watching Mueller stare at him with a look of awe, mouth agape, panting.

Mueller's body shuddered against him, pushing his hips up into his mouth, and the prince gave a final long, sensual lick before coming up for air. Things couldn't end here, of course. As tempting as it was to taste even more of him, there would be another time for that.

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by strong hands on his shoulders and Mueller, sitting up, pressing his lips against his. Mueller's other hand threaded through his hair, and Olivert shivered at the sensation, giving in to the kiss with a needy hum. The kiss was gentler than expected after such a display, tender almost, and as a hand trailed down his side and to his waist, he felt himself getting swept away into it, body softening under his touch.

Then Mueller moved his hips forward, brushing himself against Olivier's length and making a little "ah" as he did, and the prince was pushing him back down onto the mattress with little resistance, kissing him hard, rubbing his body against him, lightly grinding in a way he knew was just a tease because his own body was telling him to do more, feel more --

But Mueller was underneath him, grabbing at his back, eagerly taking his tongue into his mouth and making little sounds as he rubbed against him, and Olivert knew he wouldn't be able to hold back for long.

"Mueller," he broke the kiss to say, but found himself drawn back in to kiss him again before he could keep talking. "Do you still want me?" He asked, stroking a hand down the back of the brunette's thigh, inward to where his legs met.

Mueller's heart was pounding beneath him, he could feel it with their chests touching like this. His legs flinched as Olivert's fingertips brushed his entrance, and he moaned at the touch. He nodded slowly, but looked to the side. "...Olivier, I've never done this before," he admitted, biting his lip. 

_Oh._ That certainly explained a lot. He had suspected this might be the case, but... 

Mueller, never allowing anyone else inside him, only the prince... The thought excited him far too much, and even though he wasn't usually a possessive man, he wanted nothing more than to make him his own, to carve his feelings deep into his body. It had felt _so_ good to have Mueller inside himself, overcome with raw passion and pleasure, and Olivert wanted so badly to give Mueller the same from him and maybe even more. But more than that, he didn't want to pressure him into doing anything he wasn't comfortable with... 

"I will be so gentle," he said, tracing his hand back up his thigh. "If this is what you want, that is... otherwise, I have plenty of other ways of making you feel good," he teased, kissing at Mueller's jaw.

Mueller bent his knees up, spreading his legs slightly apart. "No," he said firmly, with a tone of pleading, sliding his leg against Olivier's thigh. "Please keep going."

Olivert smiled, reaching under the bed and grabbing a bottle, then kissed him. "Gladly," he replied, rising back to his knees and wetting his fingers with the slippery liquid, looking down at Mueller's exposed body with adoration.

Then, spreading his legs apart further, he stroked a finger at his entrance in small circles, watching with great satisfaction as Mueller reacted to his touch, making sounds and staring up at him with hazy eyes...

Then he pushed.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Mueller was not prepared for the sensation of Olivert's wet finger pushing inside of him. It was so exposing, intimate beyond what he had imagined to have part of someone else - even someone he trusted and cared for so much - inside of him, moving... And oh Aidios, the moving. He found groans of pleasure that didn't even sound like him leaving his lips as the prince began curling his finger gently in and out, slowly beginning to stretch him open. The sensation was overwhelming, untouched nerve endings burning with new stimulation, and every now and then his finger brushed something inside him that sent shivers through his belly and made him ache.

"You're doing great, my love," Olivier encouraged, lidded eyes looking deeply into his own, pressing kisses to his spread thighs.

His heart skipped a beat at _love_ , and he briefly wondered, had it always done that? 

Then another finger joined the first, gently massaging and scissoring outward, and it was nearly too much. How... How was Olivier going to fit himself inside? How did he take all of Mueller inside him so eagerly? He moaned and writhed under the prince's ministrations and found his thoughts clouding further.

"You're so beautiful," Olivert repeated. "You have no idea how alluring you are." His breath was hot against Mueller's skin as he began sliding in a third finger, continuing to massage and stretch him wider, and he suddenly felt that it wasn't enough. He found his hips moving on their own, bucking up, wanting more, deeper...

"Mueller," Olivert moaned, and Mueller looked up only to see that the prince was touching himself with his other hand, watching him and his lustful body with eyes full of need.

Mueller touched Olivert's arm, overcome with need himself. "I want _you_ ," he finally managed to say in a low, shaky rumble, past the point of caring about how embarrassed he felt. "Olivier... In... Inside-"

There was a brief feeling of emptiness as the fingers left him that was quickly replaced with something hot and big being pressed gently against him. "That's all you ever needed to say," came Olivert's voice through heavy breaths, and he slowly began to push inside.

Raw stimulation flooded Mueller's senses, and he gasped and stared at Olivier, eyes wide. The prince looked down at him with an expression of surprising tenderness, then descended on him with kisses at his neck and a gentle hand at Mueller's length, gripping him perfectly, and slowly, sensually stroking him to help ease his discomfort. Mueller moaned, a low sound, overwhelmed with sensation, as the raw ache of Olivier's hardness stretching him open started to turn instead to hot, unbearable pleasure...

"You feel amazing, Mueller," Olivert said, voice like velvet at his ear, leaving a wet, passionate kiss at his jawline, then looking down at him, slowly pushing in a little more.

It still stung a little bit but as he stared back at Olivier, whose beautiful bright eyes were looking into his own with this expression of... What was it? Desire? Passion? Yes, but no --

Mueller wrapped his arms around him, groaning at the sensation of the prince gradually filling him more and more in a way he'd never known he had wanted so much -- He struggled to speak, his body burning and his thoughts overwhelmed, but then he felt Olivert's hips flat against him, fully inside, a breathy sound of satisfaction coming from the prince's lips. Emotions rose up and spilled out, finally too much to contain. 

"I love you," he found himself saying in the heat of the moment, and the prince's eyes widened and then his face softened with so much visible _love_ \- he was sure now that's what it was - that Mueller felt his heart could burst.

"I love you too," came the reply, fraught with emotion, and then his heart really _did_ burst - the joy was too much for him to handle, and he tilted his face up the few rige to the blonde's lips, kissing him with passion and having it returned with intensity, a hand cupping his cheek.

Olivert pressed down into him with now unrestrained desire, the weight of his body hot against his, deepening the kiss further, and as Mueller kissed him back, all he could feel was Olivert inside of him, on top of him, filling his body and all of his senses with him, and on top of that a feeling that this was just so completely _right_...

"My Mueller," the prince gushed, breathing heavy from the kiss, "my dearest Mueller-"

Then his weight shifted, and there was a moan flying from both their lips as Olivert pulled out most of the way and thrust back in, slowly, as if to savor the feeling of his body around him. Mueller heard himself whine as the prince's length slowly slid back and forth inside him. It felt _so good_ , an excruciatingly delicious sensation repeating over and over again and feeling even better each time, and as the prince pulled out all the way and entered him again, he could see him disappearing inside of him, see his own body eagerly swallowing him up --

"Olivier," he moaned, the name like a prayer from his lips, and he wanted more somehow, the blonde's careful, gentle movements not enough. He found his arms pushing the man closer against him, shaky, muscular legs tightening around his hips, causing Olivert to thrust harder into him than he meant to, and letting out a startled cry.

The prince understood immediately, and with a caress of Mueller's face and a wet, deep kiss he thrusted in faster, pushing harder, steadily picking up the pace. Searing pleasure burned up from inside him, and Mueller was only vaguely aware of the sounds he was making, mingled with Olivert's own, as they brought their bodies together again and again with increasing urgency, clinging to each other, lost completely in ecstasy --

Then a hand coiled around the brunette's length, pumping him up and down and he shuddered and shook, looking into the prince's eyes before coming hard around him, shooting over their bellies in spasms, body trembling. Olivert pushed faster and faster into him as Mueller came, moaning out Mueller's name before a beautiful sound escaped from his lips as he pushed in deep one last time, holding him tightly, legs shaking. Mueller could feel him come, warm, wet heat spilling deep into his body, and as the prince slowly pulled out, collapsing against his chest, he could feel with a strange romantic sense of satisfaction that something of Olivier was still left inside of him.

They laid there, exhausted and panting, in a warm, hazy afterglow; their weak, tired arms draped around one another. The prince's heart beat firmly against him, fast but gradually slowing. Mueller threaded his fingers through his hair, pushing messy blonde strands out of his eyes and behind his ear, and Olivert looked at him, long eyelashes parting to reveal warm purple eyes. Face and body flushed, eyes gazing into his with a look of trust and wonder, his prince was really so beautiful...

Mueller smiled openly, nothing left to conceal, just so incredibly happy that the two of them were here together like this, that the prince was safe in his arms and he in his.

Olivert laughed softly, a genuine, mirthful laugh, and nuzzled up under his chin, leaving a couple light kisses at his neck. "You look very pleased with yourself," he remarked with amusement, lifting himself up slightly and looking down at Mueller. "I don't think I've ever seen such a truly unguarded smile on your face. Such a pure look of happiness... It actually suits you very well," he said honestly, lightly caressing the brunette's face, then added with a hint of laughter in his voice, "You don't look scary at all."

Mueller opened his mouth to protest but his words stopped at Olivert's lips covering his own, kissing him gently, romantically, feelings of affection and warmth spreading outward from his chest.

"I really, truly love you," Olivier said, looking into his eyes, no pretense or playfulness present at all, just a serious confession. He brought his mouth down onto Mueller's again, soft, delicate kisses conveying so much emotion without urgent desire.

And despite all the hardship, all his previous uncertainty, and the ambiguity of the dangerous future ahead of them, Mueller knew without any doubts that he loved him too.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting smutfic anywhere, but there's basically no Olivier/Mueller fic on the internet so I'm stepping way out of my comfort zone to contribute this sappy, smutty mess.
> 
> This story started with a silly discussion over what Trails character was most likely to wake up on the ground next to the bed after a night of marathon sex... Then it turned to Olivier, lying on the floor after a night of marathon masturbating, and Mueller walking in and not being able to help but take advantage of the situation, and somehow 9000+ words later this is what I ended up with.
> 
> Thank you fellow pervy friends for encouraging me to post this! I'm a nervous wreck but this ship is worth it.


End file.
